


Morning Star

by slayersfan132



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: AkaKi - Freeform, AkaKise - Freeform, Drabble, If you look close tetsu's happy aka's back, M/M, One Shot, Oneshot, this is mostly just because i needed akakise in my life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 10:08:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14330169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slayersfan132/pseuds/slayersfan132
Summary: Akashi and Kise were dating in middle school. Then, something changed about Akashi; but Kise held on, anyway, and despite how distant they had grown they stayed together. Now, in their first year of high school, Kise has a question.





	Morning Star

**Author's Note:**

> a little drabble I felt like writing because i love akakise. (it's my first work on here because everything else is a wip). Please enjoy!!

“Ryouta? Why are you calling so late at night?”

_“Akashicchi, remember when you used to call me by a nickname?”_

“You have work tomorrow, after basketball practice, don’t you? Ryouta, love, get some rest, or your makeup artists will complain about dark circles under your eyes, I’m sure.”

The blond was completely unrelenting, Akashi found. _“You used to call me something back when we started dating. Other than ‘Ryouta’, other than ‘Kise’. I want to know if you remember what it was.”_

Usually Kise’s voice had a lighthearted tone. Even the power forward himself acknowledged that it was rare he held any sort of maturity, especially when it came to things outside of basketball - but tonight, at 3:23 in the morning, his voice was completely serious. He prodded again, prompting the redhead with a soft utter of _“Akashicchi?”_.

“Ryouta, I’m not sure what you mean. It is late. You must be tired. Go to sleep.”

There was a long pause, then: _“You really don’t remember?”_

“If I knew what you were talking about, I’m sure I would. It is rare that I forget anything.” Kise went silent on the other end of the line, and Akashi waited for a time before uttering, “Get some sleep, Ryouta,” and hanging up without another word.

Akashi went back to his seemingly endless pages of homework: chemistry, mathematics, literature, business... It never seemed to end. And so he worked, drowning not only in his class assignments but also in himself.

_A regular day, in the life of an Akashi..._

 

“He used to call me his ‘morning star’,” Kise murmured a few days later, dribbling a basketball as he walked alongside Kasamatsu, down the streets of the Kanagawa prefecture. It was absentminded - he passed it back and forth between both hands, but didn’t do anything particularly flashy.

“You still haven’t broken up with him?” The senpai, understandably, was a tad confused. Ever since Kise had joined Kaijou, it seemed he had been in a nonstop slump whenever it came to Akashi. He still played basketball just fine - he’d especially given his all when they went up against Touou in the Inter-High. Emotionally, though, he seemed exhausted. It couldn’t be healthy for him.

Kise sighed. “Senpai, I love him. And you may not believe it, but he’s going through tougher times right now than I am.” He stopped walking, catching the basketball and staring down a path going through a park. “Let’s go this way.”

Kasamatsu, for once willing to tolerate Kise’s dogged temperament, followed him into the park, taking a sip out of his cup of coffee.

“Did you ever play the Generation of Miracles, senpai, back in middle school?”

“My third year?” The brunet hummed, slipping his right hand into his pocket as he continued to sip at the beverage. “Yeah, I played them once. Of course they slaughtered us. That was before you joined them, wasn’t it? When that other copycat kid was there?”

The blond gave a nod. He tucked the basketball in the crook of his arm as they walked, eyeing the path ahead without any particular attachment to the pretty view. “Yeah. They were different back then. Did you see that, too?”

“I guess you could say that.” Even as he stated it in such a way, little images were flashing through Kasamatsu’s head - of the Generation of Miracles thanking them for the game, encouraging them to keep playing basketball. They were happy back then. They played basketball for fun.

“Did you speak to Akashicchi after the game?”

Kaijou’s captain had, in fact, met Akashi - they were both point guards, after all. They had spoken after the game. Akashi had actually given him a few tips on how to improve his play that he had used to build himself up over the past few years. “Yeah,” Kasamatsu muttered, taking a more contemplative sip of his coffee. “He was a pretty somber kid, but he smiled during the game. It was clear that he...well, he was having fun.”

Kise nodded. “His mother died,” he whispered. “When he was in his fifth year of elementary school.”

“What? His mother died, that early?!”

Their walk slowed, but they trudged on. The blond bowed his head. “Akashicchi doesn’t like to talk about it, not even to me, and I don’t like to betray the trust he has in me not to tell.” Kise sighed heavily. “So, in as little detail as possible, he’s been under constant stress since his fifth year. He snapped in our second year of middle school, a little while after I joined the team - and started dating him. And he’s been that way ever since.” When Kasamatsu didn’t speak in response, the ace gave a soft huff. “The Akashicchi you know is not how he used to be in middle school, and the Akashicchi I know is not the one he has the potential to be.”

“So that’s why you stick with him so stubbornly? Even if it hurts you?” Kasamatsu was the one to stop this time, scowling over at his kouhai who stopped a few steps ahead.

“Yeah, you could say that.” Pursing his lips, Kise glanced back before resuming his walk, dribbling the basketball once again - this time with just one hand. He was more distracted now. “I think it’s mostly that I worry about him, y’know? Kinda...well, who wants to stomp on glass that’s already shattered?”

It was a vague metaphor - Akashi, to Kasamatsu, really didn’t seem anything like broken glass; not when he seemed so composed, if a little sadistic. The brunet thought he sort of understood it, at least. “So you mean...you think breaking up with him would hurt him that much?” He finished his cup of coffee and tossed it into a trash can, then caught up with Kise and walked at his side.

Giving a soft huff of laughter, the model shrugged. “I really don’t know, if I’m being honest. Akashicchi’s never been someone who seems hurt or dependant. He doesn’t show things like that. You wouldn’t wanna risk it with someone you cared about, senpai, would you?”

“Nah. I get it now.”

“Mm.” They arrived at the intersection where they would part ways. “So, no, Kasamatsu-senpai. I haven’t broken up with him.”

Kaijou’s captain took a left, while his kouhai went forward. In his mind, the blond had left a little thought - an inkling that, maybe, Kise wasn’t so immature after all.

 

The Winter Cup finals came and went. Rakuzan crowded into the locker rooms, and Mibuchi had evidently committed themself to staying close when Akashi seemed to be recuperating from his seemingly abrupt switch in personality, mentally processing what was going on. The redhead received a message from Kuroko that he had his vice captain read to him as he drank from a water bottle.

“‘It is not just me who has been waiting for your return, Akashi-kun’,” Mibuchi read aloud, quietly, while sitting beside their captain. “What does he mean, Sei-chan?”

“In middle school,” Akashi began, “I was seeing someone. We were seeing one another. If Kuroko’s words are anything to go by, he has not given up on me, and we never broke up.” He rose to his feet, slipping his things neatly into his sports bag with only a moment of uncertainty - where did everything belong? When had he bought these things? When had he joined this team? “You said I am a first year in high school?”

Mibuchi handed the redhead’s phone back, pursing their lips. “Yes, Sei-chan. Close to second year now.”

_Two years_... Akashi shook his head lightly, patting the taller player on the shoulder. “Thank you, Mibuchi. Tell the team I’ll catch up with them later.”

“Will do, captain!”

The point guard slipped his arms into the sleeves of his jacket, tugging his bag over his shoulder and leaving the locker room. _“Is he here?”_ , he texted back, turning his gaze up and skimming his eyes over the crowd of people that still hadn’t quite disappeared completely. He didn’t see more than a few heads of blond hair, and he didn’t recognize any of them.

_“There is a court down the street, east. Kise-kun said he would wait for you there.”_

Akashi sent no response, making his way from the building and arriving at the court in short time. _There_ was a blond he recognized. He walked over to join him on the court, setting his bag down and tossing his jacket aside just as easily as he had pulled it on mere minutes ago. Despite the game, he felt energized upon seeing Kise at last, after all this time.

“Kise, play me.”

He received the basketball. The power forward tilted his head to the side, shifting into a defensive stance. “Do you remember, now, Akashicchi? What you used to call me?”

As the sun set on Tokyo, drawing long shadows across the painted court, Akashi dribbled, and broke past Kise’s defense, and shot the ball. He waited until it landed soundly on the ground before drawing the model tenderly into his arms, and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Kise,” he whispered to the breeze, “my morning star.”


End file.
